


Reason to Cry

by audiaphilios



Series: From Tumblr With Lo-- [9]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Conflict Resolution, Dom/sub, Double Anal Penetration, I Blame Tumblr, M/M, Strap-Ons, dom!Bitty, sub!jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audiaphilios/pseuds/audiaphilios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jack lashes out, he only hurts them both. Bitty finds a way to put them back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reason to Cry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltkettle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltkettle/gifts).



> @saltkettle came into my house and dared to prompt something that sundered the Sacred Zimbits-- but also suggested Dom!Bitty and DP. So I took the things I liked, and left the rest behind.
> 
> Then angst happened, because sometimes it does. Then porn happens, because inevitably it does.
> 
> [Originally posted to tumblr June 3, 2016.](http://audiaphilios.tumblr.com/post/145344897730/i-hope-you-realize-this-means-im-going-to-send)

_Jack is crying._

It’s the good crying, though-- they’d moved past the hard tears when he’d finally gotten home from practice, vibrating with nerves and fear and hurt. 

The kitchen is dark and cold, but Bitty is still there--standing at the counter, palms braced, staring at the surface like it might have answers for him. Jack wants to go to him, wrap himself around the smaller man, beg his forgiveness, but he isn’t sure if he’d be welcome. So he does the only thing he can do, and follows his normal post-practice routine. Put keys in bowl by the door. Take off shoes and socks. Bring gear bag to laundry. Put dirty clothes in washer.

Then he goes back to the dark, cold kitchen, and goes to his knees in the doorway. Ass on his heels, palms on his thighs, eyes on the floor. And he waits.

Bitty’s voice is ragged, when he finally speaks. He hadn’t moved a muscle until that point, not since Jack got home, and who knows for how long before. Jack does not look at him, Jack can not look at him, Jack doesn’t deserve to look at him. He sits on his heels and absorbs each word that Bitty deigns to give him.

“You can’t treat me like that, Jack. You can’t...shout at me, and you can’t take your bad day out on me. I’m--I promised to be here for you, good days and bad days, but that is not how  _we_  communicate.”

He pauses, and Jack can hear the tears in Bitty’s breathing. He can feel the tears running down his own face. He hates himself for doing this to both of them. He hates a lot of things right now.

“Come here, Jack.” Jack moves to rise to his feet, and Bitty stops him. “No.  _Come here, Jack_.” And Jack understands, and Jack crawls. Jack crawls, and he can feel his body shaking with sobs, but they seem like they’re coming from farther away than his own chest. He reaches Bitty’s feet and stops, head hanging, afraid to kneel, afraid to touch.

Bitty’s hand runs through Jack’s hair, and he hears himself sobbing louder. Bitty’s hand tightens, and guides him forward, up onto his knees, face pressed into Bitty’s stomach. Bity’s arms come to wrap around his head, and he raises his, finally, to wrap around Bitty. They hold each other tightly, neither sure whose sobs are shaking who.

After a while, Jack finds his breathing matched to Bitty’s. Bitty’s hands are in his hair again, sliding through, grabbing hold and tightening rhythmically, a massage of pulling instead of pushing. 

Jack’s voice is steady, but quiet, when he says, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are, Jack, but that doesn’t mean things are okay.” Bitty’s hands haven’t lost their rhythm. “But they will be. If I can trust you. If you can trust me.”

Jack sniffs against his stomach, buries his face again, thinking about what he’s already risked today.

“Please, Bitty. Please.”

Bitty’s hands switch to just stroking through Jack’s hair. “Okay, Jack. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

 

_Jack is crying._

It’s the good crying, though, where his hands are gripping the headboard as Bitty works him open with an excess of dedication. He feels open in so many ways right now, physically, emotionally, mentally. (They’d learned long ago that Jack doesn’t like being tied up, but he does like the discipline and challenge of enacting his own bondage. He likes the devotion it shows to Bitty’s desires.)

Bitty has walked him through his day, his thoughts, matching his painful confessions with pleasure, guiding him back to the reason Jack was hurting, the reason Jack hurt Bitty. Everything was fine when he left this morning, but somewhere in there was unwanted news, somewhere in there was an insidious thought.

Bitty’s walked him back through it all, pinpointed the moment when Jack started being dishonest with himself, and with Bitty, and washed him clean with pleasure.

Jack’s half-drunk on pleasure, weeping gratefully when Bitty goes to kiss him, but he still notices something off when Bitty presses into him. He falls still.

“It’s not right, is it, baby?”

“What--?”

Bitty pulls back, drops his arms so Jack’s knees fall to the bed, splayed. Jack stares down his body, noticing finally the harness draped across Bitty’s hips, the silicone cock resting above his own.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Bitty continues, pressing slowly back into Jack with the fake cock, “when you put distance between us. When you give me a part of you that’s not genuine.”

The parallel strikes Jack hard, and before he realizes it he’s crying again, and pleading, and begging for Bitty,  _real_  Bitty, hands still clenched in the headboards and legs wrapping around his waist again as Bitty starts thrusting faster. Jack is whimpering now, riding too close to the crest of pleasure, but he doesn’t want to come like this, with this thing that’s not Bitty.

“ _Please, please, please_ ,” he’s crying, whimpering, pleading, “ _I need you, you. Please, Bitty, Bits, I only want you. Stop, please.”_

And Bitty stops. He pulls out slowly and leans over Jack, kissing the tears from his cheeks, his ears, his eyes. Kissing his lips and saying, “ _It’s okay, baby, we’re okay, we’re so good.”_

Bitty sits back and watches Jack face as his breathing slows,  hands sliding firmly over his chest, grounding him as he calms.

“Jack, darlin’. Are you with me?”

It takes a moment, but Jack’s breathing has come to match the rhythm of Bitty’s hands. 

“Yes, Bitty.”

“Give me a color, love.”

“Green, Bitty.”

“Good, so good, my sweet boy. You’re doing so well. You’re so good for me.” Bitty’s mouth has joined his hands, now, firm hands turning a bit rough, tugging at Jack’s nipples, lips latching on and sucking marks into his skin, so Jack won’t forget who he belongs to.

“Baby, I need you with me, okay? I want to try something.”

“I need you, Bitty, I need you.”

“I know you do, Jack, sweetheart. I’m gonna give you me, okay?”

Jack’s assent comes out on a moan that stretches into a sigh.

Bitty leans back again, and Jack can feel his fingers exploring his hole, adding more lube, slipping into him and keeping him stretched, sliding around his edges and pulling. Jack’s breath tightens when he feels the dildo pressing against him again, and Bitty soothes him down again.

“Shh, shh, baby, it’s okay, just wait, okay? Hold on for me,” he murmurs, and then Jack feels more pressure, and he realizes that Bitty has pressed his own cock alongside the dildo. He’s pressed them together, and is now pushing both into Jack’s wet, stretched hole. He whimpers at the realization.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby? You wanted more of me, and you need to feel me, don’t you?” And it’s true, it’s something Jack had shared in a whisper months before, blushing in the dark beneath their covers. How he wanted to be filled, overfull, overflowing with Bitty, wanted to absorb every part of him he could, wanted to take everything Bitty could give him and more, so much more. 

His next breath is a groan. Bitty presses deeper.

 

_Jack is crying._

But it’s the grateful kind of crying, the kind that shows how amazed he is at how much Bits loves him, how much he does for him, how much he gives him, even when Jack has been cruel, even when Jack doesn’t deserve him.

Bitty is hushing him again, because Jack’s thanks and praise and self-deprecation are spilling from his lips like the tears from his eyes. Bitty is flush against him, kissing his face again and grinding slowly against his overstretched ass, and the pressure on his prostate is unreal, and the pressure on his heart is the only thing that is real, and suddenly Jack is  _there_ , and shouting, and squeezing Bitty so tight inside, and with his legs, and with his arms which have finally found their way from the headboard to Bitty’s hair. Jack is wild with his orgasm, biting at Bitty’s lips and grabbing at his head, his back, his ass, Jack’s hips rocking up against Bitty until Bitty grabs him, pins him to the bed and shakes out his own orgasm, slowing Jack’s sharp kisses to something sweet and sated.

When Jack has calmed sufficiently, but is nowhere near recovered from his orgasm, Bitty slides out of him carefully, inspects his abused ass and moves the bathroom on wobbly knees. Jack turns his head and opens his eyes when he hears Bitty come back, watches him re-enter the room with a hot, damp rag, which he throws over his bare shoulder while he unbuckles and steps cautiously out of the harness. He sets it, and the dildo, on the floor next to the bathroom before moving to clean Jack. Jack shivers at the contrast of the hot towel and his cooling skin.

When Bitty climbs back into bed with him, they curl around one another, face to face, and Jack meets Bitty’s eyes and says, again, “I’m sorry.” And he says, again, “I love you.”

Bitty strokes his hair back from his face, cups his cheek, and kisses him, murmuring back against his lips, “I know. I love you, baby.”

Jack tucks his face against Bitty’s neck, and says, “I’ll be better, next time. I’ll tell you when I feel like that.”

Bitty’s nails scrape gently against the hair at his nape. “I need you to do that, honey. I need you.”

Jack exhales heavily against Bitty’s skin. “I need you, too.”

They fall asleep.


End file.
